


Fire Emblem: In Somnis

by TheLostWhisperer



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostWhisperer/pseuds/TheLostWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Father always told me that when I was still a baby, my mother had tried to steal me away to Ylisse. But she had failed. My name is Robin. This is the story of my life in Plegia and of how I am the heart of Grima."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Tenebris Equum

The heavy, metallic smell of blood hung in the air. The floor of the grand hall was covered in the red and sticky fluid, bloody footprints and hoofprints marred what wasn't already stained red. Man, woman and beast alike all dead. The smell was disgusting. 

I watched Father standing with a triumphant smirk on his narrow face. He had told me to stay out of the fray, he didn't want me injured before the resurrection. My mount, a black pegasus by the name of Branwyn, snorted in discontent. Stomping one of her hooves, and skittering backwards. She spun me so I was facing the entrance to the hall. 

Someone else was here. A man with dark blue hair ran into the room. Questions ran through my mind. Why was he here? How was he not killed? Who was he?

"I will not let you do this!" he screamed at the top of his lungs and pulled a glowing sword from its sheath. Even from where I was, hidden in the shadows, I could feel the heat of the blade. Something inside me recoiled at the glow, whatever this blade was it was dangerous to Father's plan. 

Father's smirk faded replaced by a grimace, "Foolish boy, just give up. I will perform the resurrection and there is nothing you can do to stop it." 

The man's eyes narrowed as he charged forward at Father. I wanted to protect him, but no matter how I tried my body refused to obey. I could not reach for the javelin at my side or a tome, to try and protect Father, and Branwyn felt stiff under me.

The man lunged at Father swinging the sword, but Father was too quick and sidestepped. The man swung again this time slashing Father cross his chest. Even from where I was, half-way across the room, I could hear the leather of his breastplate break. 

Father clutched the dark tome tighter and sent out a burst of dark energy at the man. The blue haired man didn't even flinch. How was that possible, Father was the strongest dark mage in Plegia, no one should be able to just shake off that attack. 

The blue haired man shifted his grip on the sword, and the light coming off of the blade was blinding. In one swift moment, the man had impaled Father on the blade. Even the blood that now covered the blade could not hide the light. 

I could see Father fall limply to the ground as the man let him slide off the blade. A pool of dark blood now surrounded both of them. I felt the bile rise in my throat at the sight, hot tears blurring my vision. This was not supposed to happen. This man was not supposed to be here. Now he would pay.

Without a command, Branwyn galloped forward, her hooves making loud clicks on the marble floor. The man ignored us too caught up in his cheer of victory. Foolish. He would soon join the rest of his armies in the afterlife.

I pulled on Branwyn's reins, and she slid to a stop just behind the man. I pulled a steel lance from a holster on the side of the saddle. I tightened my hold on the leather grip. The man finally took notice of me and turned around. 

"Goodbye."

I thrust the lance forward and through his neck. His cry of shock was cut off by a gurgle of blood. His blue eyes dimmed and his body crumpled to the ground. I let the lance go and he fell to the ground, his blood mingling with Father's.

I took a deep breath and wiped stray tears away from my face. 

"I won," I whispered. Father was right all along.

"No. You haven't."

His voice. How?

I felt pain in my stomach. Right where the sword pierced me. The sword glowed brighter and the pain spread to every part of my body as I fell from my steed. My whole body felt as if it was on fire.

"Goodbye, monster."

I couldn't breathe; the fire in my chest was too great.

\------

I sat straight up in my bed, my nightgown and long hair sticking to my body with sweat. I tried to calm my breathing, that dream felt too real.


	2. Chapter 1: Advocatus Diaboli

_This is my story; Father thinks it is a good idea to write this as a way to become balanced. Since you are reading this there are a few things you should know about me._

_My name is Robin. My father is a man named Validar._

_At the time of writing this I am nineteen years old._

_I am Plegian._

_I possess the Heart of Grima; I am Fellblood._

I ran my pale fingers over the curving letters. The first page in the leather bound book, that I had been keeping for two years now. I was still shaken up from the dream and reading what I wrote then helped calm me. I flipped further into the book, looking for a blank page, finally finding one. 

I wrote down the dream in every detail I could remember. This was the third time in the last fortnight that I had that cursed dream. As the glow of the sun started to break through my window, breaking me from the trance, I got up and changed into my day clothes, kicking the still damp nightgown to the side for a maid to clean up later. I moved back to my desk and stared at the journal. 

This time the dream was more vivid, I could still smell the blood, and feel the glowing fire from the blade. I ignored one of the maids as she brought a tray of fruits for my breakfast. I pushed away the slices of oranges, ripe strawberries, and other fruits. I could still feel where I had been stabbed in the dream and that killed ones apatite.

A loud knock on my bedchamber door startled be out of my daze. I fell out of my chair, and into a heap on the ground. The person who knocked on my door opened it, without my permission, and walked over to where I was trying to stand. I looked up to see a tall man, his narrow face carved into a permanent scowl. I scrambled to my feet, brushing off the dust from my dress.

"F-Father?!" I stuttered already pale face blanching. I was late for my lessons. That was the only time –other than my religious lessons- Father ever saw me, any other time it was a servant.

"You are late again, Robin. This is not acceptable," his dark brown eyes narrowed annoyance at his only child's tardiness. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down. 

I bowed my head, long off-white hair falling from behind my shoulders, "My apologies Father, please forgive me. I will go to my lessons right away." True to my word, I grabbed my bag made of soft, imported Chon'sin fabric, ran to the door and almost into Father. I stepped away from him and refused to meet his gaze.

"Don't be late tomorrow, Robin," Father hissed in his dark voice before he strode away down the long gray hallway.

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I gripped the bag tightly and walked towards the stairwell. My classroom, as Dante called it, was really just an unused wing of the library.

My footsteps echoed on the stone walls, as I spiraled down to the lower floor of the estate. I walked down the hallway, and to a pair of ornately carved doors. I leaned on one of the doors, pushing it open. The heavy doors opened with loud creaks, I squeezed my eyes shut at the sharp sound.

"Good morn' Lady Robin,"

I opened my eyes to see the old sage, Dante. He was sitting at the table in the west side of the library a thick book in front of him and his large round glasses shining. He gave me a cheerful smile, as he gestured for me to walk over to him.

"I'm sorry for being late, Dante," I breathed as I took a seat next to my teacher I had pulled the large book to me and opened it to the middle staring at the words, "I lost track of time,"

I looked up quickly at the hearty chuckle from the old man, "Why that's alright milady when you as old as me time really doesn't matter anymore," he said around another laugh.

"Now let's get starting with our morning lessons."

\---

I could still see the dream in vivid color, but sight was not the only sense. I could still hear it. The sound of the sword striking thin armor. The blue haired man's call of victory before he choked on his own blood. I could feel the warm tears on my cheeks and the empty pain in my chest. The smell of blood still filled my nose; I could even taste the metallic tang of it.  
\---

"Robin! Are you listening to me?!"

I was shaken from my doze by Aversa's loud voice. "Huh? Oh yes Aversa," 

I had no idea what she had been talking about for the past half hour. I didn't know what she wanted me to do. I could feel the last holds of the dream tug at my senses, and being distracted with my lessons with Aversa was never a good idea.

"Then charge at me!" Aversa growled from the back of her own black pegasus, Janus. They hovered only a few feet from the ground and over twice that distance from me.

I nodded and readjusted my grip on the leather reins of Branwyn. In my other hand, I raised the iron lance. I gave Branwyn, a light kick on her sides. She leaped forward black wings flapping.

We neared Aversa in a few seconds and I thrust the lance at her. I felt the wind shift as she dodged and the feeling of her lance hitting my own near my hand. The next second I was behind her and missing my lance. I turned Branwyn, but Aversa kept her back to me, the iron weapon laying in the grass. 

I glanced at the lance then back to my instructor's back. A trickle of fear clawed at my stomach.

"Robin?" her voice was cold.

"Yes, Aversa?" 

"Use a tome next time, your skill in magic is high. You only use a lance against an enemy with less armor, like a mage. You know this." She turned Janus toward me so I could see her tan face that was covered in purple swirls.

"Sorry, Aversa" I was doing a lot of apologizing today, but only to Father and my teachers. They were the only ones Father told me that I had to respect.

Aversa let out a stressed sigh, "Let's continue."

I had picked out an Elwind tome, wind magic was strong against airborne units, from the saddle bag and was about to flip it open when I felt Branwyn stiffen under me. She pranced in place, and let out a low nicker. 

"What is it, girl?" I asked the pegasus, knowing very well that she could not talk back to me. She snorted and I glanced up at Aversa, she was focused on something in the sky.

A wyvern lord was circling above the training grounds of Father's estate. He was marked with Plegian red and purple. He landed a few yards away and dismounted the gray dragon. Aversa looked down from Janus's back at him.

"Lady Aversa! King Gangrel requests your assistance immediately!" He told her with a salute. 

The king? I knew that Aversa was Gangrel's right hand and one of his most trusted advisers, but he rarely called for her other than in an a time of emergency. 

Aversa's lips curled up into a sly smile. Like she new something was going to happen. "Alright," she turned to look at me, "Robin, I will be leaving now. Your lesson is over for the day." That was the last thing she said before kicking her pegasus and charging off with the wyvern lord. 

I furrowed my brow in confusion, what could be so important that my lesson had to be interrupted, but if the king called for Aversa it must be something major. I commanded Branwyn to land, I felt her dip and land on the hard ground. I slid from the saddle and walked over to where I had dropped my lance, I picked it up and stuck it back in its sheath on Branwyn's saddle. 

"Come Branwyn." 

She snorted but obeyed and followed me back to the stable. Her stall was the first one and across from where the weapons were stored, an ornate nameplate set into the wood. 

I took the Elwind tome and the lance from the saddle bag, then motioned for her to enter the stall, and she gave me a lazy blink, she lowered her head and nudged my side. She pressed her nose against hip and tried to force my arm around her head. 

I cast a glare at the winged horse and walked away from her refusing her the pet she wanted. Branwyn saw my glare and backed up slightly, raising her head, as if offended. I raised a pale brow at her, "In the stall, horse."

She went into the stall without further delay and I checked over my shoulder once more to make sure she had done as I asked before entering the weapons room. I placed the lance into one of the racks that lined the walls, before placing the wind magic tome on the self.

I crossed the dirt hall and walked into Branwyn's stall and removed the mount armor from her, taking her champron first and setting it to the side. She shook her head and her forelock fell onto her forehead. I made a pile out of the rest of her armor. As I removed the saddle she let out a long sigh of relief.

"Oh shush, it is not that heavy you flying mule," I told her and she held her nose high. Stupid winged beast, she acts so entitled, acting entitled was my job anyway.

I took the red and purple blankets from her body and started gathering lighter parts of the armor, taking it piece by piece to the life-sized horse mannequin. Attached the armor to the mannequin as if it were getting ready for battle.

Once I set up all the armor on the mannequin, I picked up the wooden box that held the verity of brushes and metal picks that were used in the care of a pegasus. 

I brushed Branwyn's coat until it shone and cleaned dirt from her feathers. I talked to her about what she thought about Aversa leaving and in true Branwyn fashion, she snorted and pawed at the ground as if answering me. The entire routine took almost an hour, and she obviously thought this was long as she started squirming around, nearly stepping on my feet several times. This was no chore for a woman of my standard, this was a job for a stable hand. But Aversa said that a pegasus needed a close bond with their rider and this was the best way to build that bond. So I did it begrudgingly.

I replaced Branwyn's empty water and old food trays with fresh and closed and locked the stable door. She stuck her head out reaching her muzzle towards me. She made a sound through her nose and tried to nudge my hand. I reached up and rubbed her head, near her ears. For as much as a pain she was, she was a good listener and a good friend. "Stupid flying mule…why do I love you?" I placed a light kiss on the top of her nose.

She snorted, shaking her head, before turning to enjoy her meal.

I left her alone, as I went back up to my room to change out of the sweaty Dark Flier armor before I headed to the first of my afternoon lessons.

\---

Dante was once again waiting for me as I entered the library, in the same place as he was before and I wondered if he had even moved. I took a seat next to him as he opened the old book and began the lessons for this evening. We were talking about Ylisse, not a favorable topic.

"Lady Robin, what are the names of the members of Ylisse's royal family?" Dante asked in his wheezing voice.

I sighed, I hated that country and everyone in it. They constantly raided our border towns, and their former Exalt, Exalt Levon, had declared war upon us. Even with him dead, his followers pushed for Plegia's destruction. I propped my chin up on my palm, "The eldest, the current Exalt, is named Emmeryn. Her younger brother is Chrom and their little sister is Lissa," I replied in a bored voice, the sooner we got done with talking about the Ylissens the better.

Dante gave me an encouraging smile, "Very good, Lady Robin. Now let's see where we are." He skimmed over the old book looking for his place. A thought crossed my mind, Dante knew everything that was going on in the estate, surely her would know what happened to Aversa. I sat up straighter in my seat, looked at Dante's face, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Dante, do you know why that Wyvern Lord came for Aversa? I am sure that news has spread by now," I asked, taking a chance. I looked down at the journal I was taking notes in, trying to seem like this was common gossip.

No response.

I looked up from the book to see Dante staring at me. His thick white eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he was trying to find something to say, "I-I do not know milady, I do apologize."

I could hear his voice waver, so he did know, but he wasn't telling me. It must be something important if Dante didn't think he could tell me something. The rest of the lesson passed slowly, my mind wondering. What would be so important that the king needed Aversa, and so secret that Dante wouldn't tell me?

There was only one more lesson today. Religion lessons with Father, a class I only had once a week.

His classroom was an old part of a worship hall, now fallen into disrepair. Father was pacing in front of me, as I knelt on the ground. He was muttering something in an old language, long forgotten by most people. But I knew the words by heart, it was Grima's Prayer.

Once he was done speaking, I bowed my head, shut my eyes and recited the prayer as well, the archaic words heavy on my tongue. I could feel my mark on the back of my hand burn, not like fire but like ice. This was a new feeling and I didn't know what was happening.

I felt the draft that the old room was notorious stop. I slowly opened my eyes and the dark room was no longer there. It was replaced by a pitch black world, with no discernible sky or ground. My chest felt tight at the stale air. A figure surrounded by purple light stood before me, this figure was menacing and I wanted to recoil away from it. But, I was no longer in control of my body and my arm rose on its own accord. I reached out and touched the figure, as soon as my hand reached the purple light, cold fear coiled into my body and the world pitched forward.

I was snapped out of the black world and fell forward, catching myself on my hands. I was racked with coughs, and blood dotted the ground after each cough. My head felt too light, I closed my eyes to keep the room from spinning and forced myself not to retch. I could feel where the mark on my hand was, the outline of it stinging.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I felt a hand on my shoulder yank me around to look at them. Father retracted his hand and looked down at me with a deep scowl.

"Robin. What was that?" Father asked, his voice icy. He was not pleased in the slightest with this turn of events. 

I sat back, wiping the blood from my lips with the sleeve of my dress. My chest hurt, the same empty feeling from my dream, "I'm sorry, Father. I was scared. It was dark... There was this dark figure, I reached out to it..."

I took a chance to glance up at him, his dark eyes flashed with shock for just a brief moment before being replaced by their usual disappointment. He turned and walked away, pausing at the door, and looking back at me. 

"Go find a healer, you're covered in blood. You are the only heart of Grima to be born so you can't risk killing yourself." 

I stood up, swayed but managed to keep my balance, "Yes, Father." 

Without another word, he turned and left me alone in the dark room. I slowly made my way over to the doors that lead to the main hallway of the manor. I had never been this weak after his lessons and I had never seen that figure before, a normal lesson would have me recite the prayer many times, before Father began to talk about the rise of Grima. Was I making progress?

I leaned on the wooden door and it swung open with my weight, nearly sending me toppling to the ground. I made my way, albeit slowly, to the servant chambers where the healers lived. I was about to round the corner when voices of two of the servants caught my attention. I leaned on the stone wall to keep myself from falling.

"Did you hear what happened earlier?"

"No. What?"

"A Wyvern Lord came to the estate today. He was looking for Aversa. Yillse invaded us."

What? Had Plegia been invaded? The attack must have been great enough for the king to want investigate it. I leaned forward trying to hear what the servants were saying, but they were walking off and their voices only became a light hum.I pushed off from the wall, ready to follow them and make them tell me what they meant by the invasion. Pain shot through my head, sharp as a dagger. My vision turned black, not the same drowning darkness as from that dark and cold world, but inky blackness all the same. The world fell from under me and I fell with it.


	3. Chapter 2: Tranquillitas Coram Tempestate

I woke to pale candle light and the stone ceiling swirling, I watched it dance around until it stopped. There was something cool and damp on my forehead, reached a hand up to try and see what is was but a warm hand stopped me. I looked over to see who had made the gesture, to see a woman in her early fifties smiling down at me. 

"Clarita?" I mumbled recognizing the woman.

She shushed me and removed the thing from my forehead, it was a cloth. She released my hand and turned around, dropping the cloth into a bucket full of water.

"How are you feeling, Robin?"

I sat up and another wave of dizziness swept over me, "I've been better," I didn't need to ask where I was. It was Clartia's room, small like all of the servant chambers, but Clartia had managed to make it her own. The smell of incense was almost overwhelming in the room.

Clarita was looking at me intently with her pale blue eyes, her brown hair falling from its bun. She sighed and rose from the bed; the bed rising up with a low creak. I turned so my legs fell off the bed and rested my hands on my lap. I noticed that my right hand was bound in white cloth, a dark red stain spreading out from the middle.

I glanced up at Clarita who was retrieving her Medical Journal from a shelf above her small desk. Apparently sensing my gaze on my hand she spoke without taking her attention from writing down what had happened to me in her journal. 

"Your hand was bleeding, milady. You are free to go now, just take it easy for the rest of the day."

I nodded, "Thank you, Clarita," I lowered my gaze. I was thankful that Clarita was the one to help me and not one of the other healers, and despite what Father told me about not having to respect our servants, I liked Clarita. She was the closest thing to a mother that I had, as my own Mother was branded a traitor when she tried to smuggle me into Yillse, when I was a child. Luckily she was caught at the border by a band of soldiers. After that, my mother fled the country and Clarita was hired to keep an eye on me.

I prepared to stand up, but I remembered what I had overheard the other servants in the hall talking about. I tilted my head and paused, weighing my options of whether or not to ask if the rumor was true. 

"Clarita? Are the rumors true, the ones about Ylisse invading us?"

She, turned around in her chair, laying her quill beside the book. She didn't meet my gaze and shook head, "Don't worry yourself, Lady Robin, that's just what they are rumors. You needn't concern about trivial matters."

I furrowed my brow and rolled my shoulders back trying to seem more imposing, knowing that, like Donte, she was trying to keep me safe, "But Clarita, as a noble it is my duty to know what is happening in the kingdom."

Clarita stood up and walked over to me, she sat beside me placing a hand on my shoulder, "And it is my duty to keep you safe milady. Remember I am a Valkyrie, not a Cleric. That is why I was first hired here, to keep you safe."

I sighed if she knew anything she wasn't going to tell me.

"Don't look so glum, milady, I only worry about you. You know you are like the daughter I never had. Now, please, go have your dinner and get some rest."

"Yes, Clarita." I pushed myself to my feet, without a wave of dizziness. I made my way over to the door, but Clarita beat me to it.

She held open the door for me, gave me a respectful bow as I moved past her and into the hall. I heard the door shut with a click, and began making my way back up to the main area of the mansion. I could feel my stomach growl; just how long had I been out?

As I walked along the main hall, I looked at the brilliant red tapestries that hung on the walls. On them was the symbol of the Grimleal, the six eyes of Grima, the same mark I had on my hand. I looked up at the elegantly woven tapestry and frowned. So many questions ran through my mind; who was that man in my dream, how did he wield that power, what was going on with Aversa and the border, what did I see in that vision?

I grimaced, turning away from the tapestry, I shook my head trying to erase all of her swirling questions from my mind. I was too hungry and tired to be trying to solve the mysteries that plagued this day. I walked to the dining hall and took my seat to the left of the head of the table. That was Father's seat, even if he never joined me for meals.

A servant, who I didn't bother to learn the name of, set a plate down in front of me with a 'clink', he bowed and stood of to the side to gather my plate when I was done. The thick smell of well-cooked and well-spiced lamb reached my nose along with the earthy smell of vegetables. I picked up my fork and knife and cut into the tender meat. I slowly ate the lamb and sipped my watered-down wine, I could not stand the bitter drink if it was any stronger. 

Once I was done, I stood up from the table and made my way back up to my room. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to return to my bed for the night. I entered the spacious room and pushed the door closed behind me. As soon as I was under the covers sleep overtook me.

\---

I woke to the sound of a light knock on the door, I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow, trying to block out the noise. The noise stopped but my door was opened and I turned my head to see who it was. It was a maid who kept her eyes downcast, in her hands was a small tray of bread and fruit flavored jam. She set the tray on my nightstand and left the room quickly. I pushed myself up from my comfortable position to reach for the food. My strength still felt sapped from yesterday, and the food was welcome. I scarfed down two slices of bread coated in a thick layer of jam. 

I stood up leaving the tray of crumbs on my nightstand and walked over to my wardrobe. I changed from my gray dress and into a black one. I left the gray dress crumpled on the ground; a servant would be around to pick it and the tray up. I reached down to get my bag and paused seeing the cloth that was wrapped around my hand now stained with dark red blood. I pulled it off and looked at the purple mark on my hand. There was no trace of blood or wound around it. I shrugged it off and grabbed my bag then started toward the library. Once I was there I slid into my seat next to Dante.

\---

 

"Now where is that bridle," I muttered under my breath and retrieved a light weight saddle from the tack room. I spent the next few minutes looking for the light bridle, before finding it hidden behind a saddle blanket. Aversa was still not back and my Dark Flier lessons were suspended until she was back. But her word was law when it came to taking care of the black pegasus, and even with no lessons in the near future I still had to ride Branwyn. 

I returned to Branwyn, placed and cinched the saddle tight much to the pegasus's annoyance. I pushed the bit into her mouth and wiped her spit off on my loose trousers. The one good thing about the lack of Aversa was not having the wear the hot, red uniform. 

I rubbed her neck in attempt to calm her down, "Aversa still isn't here, Branwyn," I told her, taking her reins and leading her out of the stall, "I don't know when she'll be back. But you'll never believe what I heard some of the servants say."

I led the pegasus outside and climbed onto her back. I kicked her into a trot and leaned slightly forward, the nonverbal command for her to stay on the ground. She let out an annoyed huff and I patted her shoulder. I let her walk where she wanted to, tying off and dropping the reins allowing her freedom. I allowed my mind to wonder about the growing tension on the border, wondering how long it would be before something happened.

After two hours of allowing the black pegasus to walk around the estate at her own discretion, I nudged her where I wanted her to go with my heels, and turned her back towards the stables. Once we reached the stables, I dismounted her and told her to follow after me. I placed her in her stall and did her care routine, providing her with fresh food and water. I rubbed her head as I walked past, returned to the mansion, and went up to my room, not having any lessons for the rest of the day. Thankful for the rest. 

\----  
That routine happened for over a week. Lessons with Dante, taking care of and talking with Branwyn, the single lesson with Father, that held even less progress than the last. 

I was in my afternoon lesson with Dante. I was paying him attention, this time, as he was talking about the rise of Plegia, of how our country was formed as a counter to Yllise after the first Exalt attempted to kill Grima. It was when the first leader of the country had called the dark dragon to rise, but the first Ylisseans had ended the dragon's short reign, and have been an ever growing pain in Plegia's neck since. The lesson was cut short as a frantic looking Wyvern Rider burst into the room, knocking over several stacks of books.

He looked around and made eye contact with me and Dante before rushing over to the table we were out. Dante, the fastest I had ever seen him, climbed to his feet, reaching into his robes for something. I stood up in shock, prepared to run if this man proved to be as crazy as he looked. The Wyvern Rider doubled over breathing hard, "Ylisse... They... Declared war." He fell to the ground.


	4. Chapter 3: Aufero Caput

Dante had set the man up on one of the cushioned couches that were in the library, he was alive just exhausted. I was still standing, frozen in shock. 

A war, they declared war on us. No... It had to be a lie, we couldn’t deal with another war. Plegia was still recovering from the debt that their former leader had forced on us with the last war. We didn't have many exports; mostly stones mages could use in incantations, and cotton when it would grow, but nowhere near enough to pull us out of a deeper debt if a war started. Not to mention if they had truly declared a war, what would that mean for the Fellbloodline...

I couldn't breath. I felt hands on my shoulders and looked to see Dante gently pushing me down into a chair. 

I collapsed down into the chair, taking a shaky breath.

“Lady Robin, calm yourself,” 

I nodded at Dante's words, I could not start panicking, it was undignified. I was a noble and I had to be dignified. I took a deep breath, this would all be fine. After all there must have been an increased number of attacks on the towns near the border. That must have been what Aversa was called by King Grangel for. 

Aversa was powerful she could handle this, this whole war thing would blow over and there would be no harm to Plegia or to the Fellbloodline. That's what I kept telling myself, but a tiny voice in the back of my mind held the fear that something big was going to happen. I covered my face with my hands, trying to ignore the thought. 

Dante didn't continue the lesson after the news. The air was too tense as we waited for the soldier to wake up to see if held any more news. I wondered how Father was reacting to the news, he probably knew before the Wyvern Rider ran in here. I had his lessons tonight, so I would find out sooner than later.  
\----  
The worship hall was dark, normally candles cast some light into the room hall, but none was lit. I peered into the darkness, trying to see if Father was in the gloom. I took a step into the room and light from the hallway. The air felt heavy and wrong, perhaps it was my own mind still over reacting from the earlier news but the air felt charged with dark energy.

“Robin,”

I jumped at the sound of Father's voice cutting through the darkness. The room lit up suddenly a revealed Father standing near the altar, his back to me. He turned around slowly and his face looked more grim than usual. I pulled my gaze away from his and walked further into the room. 

“Yes, Father,” 

“I take it that you heard the news.”

I could feel his eyes boring into me as I walked up the steps to stand beside him. The air was even heavier here. I could feel the dark energy it was charged with as it made my skin tingle. I was not just imagining it earlier. Father must have been performing some arcane ritual before I had arrived.

“About the war? Yes, a Wyvern Rider came running into my lesson with Dante and informed us, he fainted after saying it, though...”

My voice trailed off when Father scoffed. He had turned away from me and was gathering up some of his dark tomes. One stood out to me, its cover was dyed purple and leather was cracked with age, but I could make out the shiny golden mark of Grima on its cover. It must haven been one of Father's personal tomes. 

“I will be leaving in the morning to aid in the war,” 

I blinked, I must have heard wrong. Father, joining the war? But he wouldn't risk dying when his plan to resurrect Grima was closer to success than it has ever been.

“Pardon?”

I heard Father's annoyed growl, “If you didn't hear me the first time, I said was going to aid in the war. Gangrel has been corresponding with me about the threat of an upcoming war and has asked for my assistance.”

So he was really going to fight in the war, he must have some sort of plan to not get killed. Father was a careful man; he wouldn’t risk his life’s work over something he’d consider trivial. The feeling of something big going happen rose again. 

“Well, what are you doing standing around, get ready!”

\---

“No, No. No. No!” 

I flinched at Father’s voice. 

Another week and another failure, I didn’t even feel the slightest tingle of the dark energy.

“I’m sorry, Father.” I didn’t know what to say, I had no excuse for my failure. Not after how I had seen that thing only a few weeks ago. 

Father pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just leave, Robin.”

I scrambled to my feet, “But Father, I-”

“Leave,” his voice was colder than normal. 

I looked down at my feet, “Yes, Father.” I left the room quickly without another word. I skipped dinner and headed straight into my room. I sat down heavily on my bed and flopped back.

Why couldn’t I make that connection again? If it was truly Grima who I saw in that vision had he deemed our bloodline unworthy? I ignored that thought. The Grimleil where loyal and Grima wouldn’t abandon us. I remembered the dream that had plagued me in the days leading up to that vision. Was it the fear of that dream that helped the connection? Or something else?  
\---

True to his word Father had left early the next morning. 

News reached the estate over a month after he had left. 

The Exalt of Yllise was dead. King Grangel had taken her prisoner and had arranged for her execution for her country's crimes against Plegia. Though her younger brother and his band of soldiers had arrived in an attempt to save her. She forfeited her own life and had fallen from one of the giant dragon bones that lay scattered in Plegia’s Tnyn Dessert, as some sort of selfless act. Not something I thought an Yllisean could do. But apparently weak members of the army had been moved by her act and had deserted. 

Even with this news I was sure that the Yllissian army would retreat and accept their defeat. 

Father still hadn't returned by the time the next news arrived. 

The estate was in a buzz when I returned from my afternoon ride with Branwyn. With gardeners and maids whispering to each other and having the same shocked expression on their face. A stable hand ran up to me in a panic then grabbed onto the reigns and pulled me towards the stables.

"What are you doing?" 

I pulled the reigns from his hand, and Branwyn gave a snort and small rear in annoyance at being jerked around. The stable hand looked around frantically before placing his hand on the saddle and trying to grab the reigns again.

"Milady! There's news from the battle front!"

My annoyance at this man dulled a bit when he said news, I had heard nothing since the news of Exalt Emmeryn's death and the army breaking apart due to desertion. Any news was welcome.

"Well what are you doing standing there, I want to know."

"The small army that the Exalt's brother leads attack King Grangle's personal army. The king is dead."

This news was not welcome.

"What? How did they even get close to him?"

"The king's army is dead or they deserted long before the attack." 

A thought struck me. I hadn't heard anything from Father since he left, I didn't even know what army he was fighting with. I knew he wouldn't desert, and if he served in Grangel's personal army, that would mean...

"What of my father?"

The stable hand looked taken aback as if he hadn't expected me to ask of my father's life.

"Lord Validar? He is in the capitol meeting with other nobles about who will succeed the throne."

I gave a sigh of relief, Father was alive, nothing to worry about. 

"Keep me informed on what happens with this, I wish to know who Father will support as king or queen," I told the man as I steered Branwyn away from him and toward the stables. 

\---

It wasn't long before the announcement of who would succeed the throne came to the estate. 

Just as I had told him the stablehand had found me and told me what he heard.

"Lady Robin, they have chosen who will become the next king."

I turned towards him, "And?"

The man bowed his head respectfully, "Your father. He is to be crowned king. He has asked for you to prepare to move to Castle Zahf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the words like Tnyn and Zahf I used romanized Arabic, due to me also using Middle Eastern geography and economics (mainly exports) to flesh out Plegia.


	5. Chapter 4: Vivat Rex

I had my bags packed and was prepared to move by the end of the week. I hadn't slept the night before the trip out of excitement and was prepared when one of the maids came to get me. The sun hadn’t yet risen over the distant sand dunes, and the moon and stars were still visible, but they still gave off enough light to see. I was escorted out of the estate and to a large carriage.

The interior was plush, with velvety seats and a fine rug across the floor. Fluffy pillows were in the corners of the seats. Everything from the seats to the rug was dark purple, with fancy gold patterns. Purple fabric with golden tassels hanging over the windows, to allow privacy if one wished it. Everything in the carriage had an air of elegance, it was fit for a princess. 

I hadn't really thought of it before, but with Father being crowned king I'd become a princess. I let out a childish giggle as I sat down on the seat, I’d be a princess. Princess Robin. 

As the carriage lurched forward, I leaned on the edge of the window, watching the familiar land of the estate slowly roll away. I turned my head away to look at the road that wound its way through the higher dunes towards where the main trading road was. The sun was beginning to rise, I watched as the light turned the sand from silvers to gold. I took off my traveling coat and laid it coat across the seat, it was too hot in the desert to wear it during the day, but once it was got dark I knew I’d want it again.

Everything looked so different from the lands of the estate. The sand dunes were higher and everything looked barren, no buildings or other structures littered the sand. 

It was rare for me to leave Father’s estate, the last time had been when I had insisted on accompanying him on one of his trips to meet with another Grimleal. I was young at the time and had clung to his coat begging him to take me with him. None of my nannies would shake my resolve in this, and to end my begging Father allowed me along.

The meeting was only a half day’s journey away, but I had been intrigued with how different the world outside the estate looked. I don’t remember much about the other Grimleal other than the fact that he had seemed panicked when he saw me. He had muttered something to Father and not long after we left, and never heard from that man again.

As a child, I had made no effort in understanding the panicked look on his face, but perhaps he had been not invested in the faith as he let on. Even at that young age, I knew I was born to be the vessel of Grima, to eventually use my body as a sacrifice and host for the dragon. Father said that when Grima was resurrected then the world would be as it should. He never explained to me what that meant, but with how bitterly he talked about Grima’s parallel, Naga, it had to be something good.

\-----  
The long ride to the capital took the most of the daylight hours before the large skull of the dragon that the capitol sat under appeared in the horizon. 

The capital of Plegia was Zelam. It wasn’t Plegia’s largest city by far, but it was nearest the holy monument, the Dragon’s Table. 

Zelam was built under the skull of Grima, the skull itself was giant and towered over the surrounding sand dunes. The bleached white bones, standing out amongst the golden sand and rock. The bone walls sheltered the city from the sandstorms that blew in from the surrounding Tnyn Desert and made it harder to attack. The skull was also used to protect the capital against a direct attack, after all, who would attack the skull of a god. The poorer districts were nearer the teeth or were outside the skull entirely leaving them less protected. The upper class lived closer to the center. Wyvern and griffons guarded the skies from their dens and roosts in the eyes. 

The carriage avoided passing through the poor districts and wrapped around to the rear of the skull, where a large gate stood where the neck would formally connect. We stopped at the gate while city guards varied who was entering through the back gate. I leaned out the window watching the exchange. The large gate opened slowly and the carriage rolled in, before coming to a complete stop.

A servant, caked in sand and dirt from the trip here opened the door to the carriage and offered her hand to me. I took it lightly, trying to keep the grime off of me, and allowed her to help me down from the carriage.

It took my eyes awhile to adjust to the darkness inside the city, but once I was able to I noticed that the back area of the city was mostly barren; save for a large stable for horses, a pasture for them, and a small sandstone building for the stablehands to live in. Branwyn had been tethered to one of the servants’ horses and I wondered if she would be kept in the lower stables or would she be taken to one of the aerial stables.

“This way, my lady”

The filthy servant guided me a wooden elevator that was controlled by a combination of magic and pulleys. She stopped at the edge of the elevator and held open the waist-high gate for me. She latched it closed behind herself and two guards, their armor marked them different then the attendants that had come along with me. The servant pulled a lever and the elevator lurched as it started to rise, I looked over the railing at the city below.

The city sprawled out beneath the elevator; lights from fires all over the city where visible, even from the poor districts. Long shadows of people played on the walls of buildings going about their late evening business. 

The elevator ride was slow as it climbed higher and higher to the roof of the skull. As soon as we were outside of the shelter of the skull, the strong winds whipped my hair and traveling coat. The wind was colder than I had expected and I drew my coat tighter around me. I looked up and saw the looming shape of Castle Zahf against the night sky.

It was bigger than I imagined.

We walked across the top of the skull. I kept close to the middle of the group, trying to stay out of the wind. It threw my hair in my face and it was cold, I hated both; though the heat during the day wasn’t much better.

Once we were inside the castle’s high walls the wind vanished and everything felt warmer. The main doors to the castle where intricately carved with pictures depicting the first rising of Grima. The guards pushed open the doors and Grand Hall of the castle greeted me.

This was to be my new home. 

\----  
Father's coronation was a small affair, only high ranking Grimleal had been invited. Once the ceremony was over and the dinner began, I avoided the older Grimleal as much as I could. They made conversation mostly with my father and those who didn't, started to make conversation between themselves. I was glad that I didn't have to make small talk with people twice my age or more. I glanced at Father and an elderly woman who sat to his left, as I had been displaced from my usual seat. Both of them were staring at me, the woman was saying something to him. 

Father raised an eyebrow at what the woman was saying. Whatever they were speaking of, it pertained to me. I turned my gaze away; the woman most likely was asking about my role in the resurrection of Grima -from what I heard that was a popular topic- that and them congratulating Father being a ‘true grimleal’ king. 

\----

Life was back to normal or some semblance of it, as Dante and Aversa had started my lessons again. Dante had set up his class in the library here and was now instructing me in the dullest parts of government, things that would be expected of a princess. Aversa’s lessons now had a greater focus on aerial combat, now that we had the Tnyn Desert and its winds to train in. 

The last battles of the war died off and Plegia and Ylisse entered an uneasy draw. The two countries both dealing with the loss of their leaders. From what I was told Emmeryn's brother was the new Exalt.

I was leaving Dante’s class when Father stopped me. Now that he was king I saw him even less than I did before, even my Religious classes were more scattered. 

“Robin, there will be a guest joining us for dinner in a few weeks. I want you to be on your best behavior when he arrives,”


	6. Paralogue 1: Ligatio Similis Bestia

Lucina sat on the old, ratty mattress her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Her gaze was set on the door across the room. The room was small and empty; save for the bed she sat on now and a table that looked like it would fall over if she even breathed on it. No windows lined the walls, and it was kept lit by a chandelier hung in the center, no doubt that the candles were controlled by magic. It was a prison. A prison where she was locked in the room cut off from her friends, like an animal in a cage.

She hated that she had gotten herself and her friends captured.

_They had to steal the gemstone, Sabel, from Plegia, and the mission had gone off without a problem. The fact that everything had gone so smoothly had worried her but she had pushed that aside as Naga watching over them. That wasn’t until they had reached the border between Ylisse and Plegia when things started to go wrong. They were traveling through one of the deep canyons, trying to keep their good fortune of not being seen. That quickly changed when an army of Risen had appeared in the direction they were going with another band appearing behind the children, trapping them._

_The young Shepherds stood their ground as long as they could before they were captured. Noire and_ Yarne _look close to fainting as two Risen pulled them along. Kjelle was yelling every obscenity she knew before an undead Great Knight kicked her to the ground, from atop its horse. Gerome and Cynthia's mounts were grounded by larger wyverns and predatory griffons headed by a huge dark scaled wyvern with a small rider. Laurent hung his head, clearly upset with his tactical failure. Lucina herself was slumped over, her breathing heavy, Falchion feeling even heavier than usual._

_The crowd of Risen parted as a white-haired young man walked through them and headed straight for Lucina. He was dressed in the ornate garbs of a sorcerer but lacked the headdress a dark tome in hand. His skin wasn’t a deathly gray and his eyes weren’t a shining red. He was pale and his eyes brown. A smirk plastered on his face. He was alive, and that fact confused her. Who among the living would serve that dragon?_

_“Lord Grima would like the gemstone that you stole back, and the others as well,” he held a hand out to her, “You’ll still be taken_ prisoner _, of course, though I will ensure the Risen are gentler with you.”_

_Lucina stood up and raised Falchion, pointing it him, “Never! We won’t surrender.”_

_He pouted, his face childish, but he didn’t flinch away from the sword, “You’ve already lost. Just hand over the gems and now that I think about it, that sword,” his face returned to the smirk, “If you please.”_

_She didn’t lower her guard and kept the tip of the blade focused at the sorcerer's neck. She knew she was in no place to fight against him and the army. She was tired and with a quick glance to her sides she saw that the others were all in a similar state or already captured by Risen. But she didn't want to give in to this smug looking man._

_He saw her tense and backed away, his smirk once again fading to a pout, “So be it then,” he raised a hand and made a sweeping gesture, “take her prisoner.”_

_He turned on his heel and strutted back through the crowd of Risen before pausing, he looked over his shoulder at Lucina. "Oh, and no need to be gentle with them,"_

_Before he climbed onto the wyvern with the small rider, the Risen attacked._

The Risen hadn't been gentle, one had left a nasty cut on her upper cheek that still stung.  
The door opened with a loud creak, and Lucina jumped to her feet startled out of her memory. Falchion had been taken from her upon her capture, but she was still prepared to fight again. The door opened fully to reveal the white-haired sorcerer, a tray in his hands. Lucina clenched her fists at the sight of him, and she took a step forward to attack him. He simply balanced the tray in one hand and held the other up, a smug smile on his face and her body immediately froze up.

“Now, now, Lucina. It's not nice to attack your host,” he waved his free hand, and her body unfroze making her stumble.

She corrected her balance and glared at him. She really wanted to knock that smug look off his face as he drew near her, the door swinging shut behind him. She took an involuntary step back when he came close to her.

“I wouldn’t call you a host. And how do you know my name?"

He only shrugged and kept coming toward her and she was forced to scoot back on the bed to keep away from him, but he didn’t follow closer than the side. He placed the tray on the rickety table and she was surprised it didn’t collapse and spill the contents onto the dirty floor. On the tray was a bowl of some Plegian soup with a white sauce on top, a couple of slices of bread on the side with a cracked cup of water. A cloth and a bandage where also on the side.

“Here’s your meal for the day and some bandages. For your cut.”

He picked up the cloth and sat on the bed next to her. Lucina was prepared to kick him and try to make a break for it, but the man’s glare stopped her.

“I wouldn’t do that, there are Risen in the halls and they will kill you, and gods help you if you run into Grandfather, he’d feed you to Lord Grima alive,” he paused and sighed, “Lucina, I’m not going to hurt you. Just clean your wound. After that, I’ll leave.”

The cut did sting as it was caked with dirt and sweat. She relented, for now, she’d try and find a way for her and her friends to escape later. The man slid closer to her and she saw that sitting on the bed he was a few inches shorter than her, and she leaned away quickly when his face moved close to hers. She didn’t like that she could feel his breath or see his eyes, the things that made him human and not a monster.

“Hold still, I don’t want this to get into your eye.”

Lucina held her breath as he moved closer to her again, pressed to cloth to the cut, and she flinched as the alcohol stung. She wasn’t as used to the normal way of healing as Brady would usually use his magic if anyone got hurt. The man chuckled under his breath, “You’re not much like what Grandfather says you are. My name is Morgan by the way. Though you should know.”

She was surprised at how kind he sounded as he finished cleaning the wound and placed a bandage over it, nothing like how someone serving Grima would sound. Maybe he was here against his will, he did mention his grandfather so maybe he was forced to help. Lucina was about to ask the question that had been nagging at the back of her mind for a while when the door to the room slammed open. Lucina flinched away from Morgan and turned to see who had entered the room.

It was a small woman with the same white hair as Morgan but grown past her chin. Her armor was red and gold the same as the kind that leads wyvern lord, her eyes crinkled with a wicked smile as she saw the scene.

“Morgan! Already trying to get with one of the prisoners? I never knew you were so wicked.”  
Lucina quickly turned quickly back to face Morgan after the woman’s accusation, to see him glare at the woman.

“For your information, Marcella, I am helping her so she doesn't get an infection and die. You know you can’t trust a Risen to do that. Can’t trust them with much, anyway.”

The woman made a disgusted face when her name was spoken, “Don’t call me that, call me Marc. You know I hate that name, it’s so girly. Besides, who cares if she dies? If she does then the line of Naga is dead.”

“Grandfather does, don’t forget he told us to capture them alive. For what reason I don’t know, and rather not. So the Princess will be taken care of.”

“To feed them to Lord Grima, maybe. It’s not like we should care what happens to them. Only if we get what we want in the end. Right?” Marc’s face was somber when she said that, all the playful malice gone.

Morgan sighed heavily, bowing his head forward and closing his eyes, “Yes… If we get that then everything is okay.”

“Glad you understand that we can’t care for more people than ourselves.”

Marc turned on her heels and left the room, stopping at the door and looking over her shoulder, the toothy grin back in place as if she hadn’t frowned at all.

“Oh, Princess? Look out for Risen chunks in the soup, their fingers tend to fall off when it's humid and the kitchen always is. Ta-ta,” she gave a small wave and was out the door in a moment, it slamming shut behind her.

Lucina blinked barely comprehending what had just occurred. Morgan sighed again and rubbed his temples as if fending off a headache.

“Sisters, I hope her wyvern, Sammael tries to sit on her again. Does Cynthia ever annoy you like that?” He laughed softly, trying to lighten to mood, pausing briefly before shaking his head and standing up, “Never mind, I just remembered research I have to do. Ignore what Marcella said. Expect the checking for Risen chunks that does happen. I’ll make you and your friends food from now on myself.”

He quickly left the room leaving Lucina alone, with the food, which may or may not contains Risen.  
_______

She didn’t know how long she had been trapped in the room, the only person she had seen was Morgan when he’d bring her meals, help to clean her wound and talk to her, he never talked about himself only her and the world. One night, or at least she assumed night as the chandelier was off when she couldn’t sleep, she heard the door creak open and she was on her feet.

A dark figure gestured for her to come closer, and she warily followed. The figure had a hood drawn over their head so she couldn’t see their face. But she could see the sword they held, gleaming in the dim light. Falchion.

“Here. Take it and leave, your friends are already out of their cells. I can’t give you the gemstones, Gra- Validar destroyed them already. There is another way, seek Naga quickly, as Grima is trying to kill her. Ask her about the past. Now hurry just straight ahead.” The figure shoved Falchion into her hands before pushing her down the hall.

The figure turned and ran the opposite direction. Even if the figure wanted to remain anonymous, she knew who it was. Morgan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about how I never update. Sorry.


	7. Chapter 5: Quispiam Vetus, Quispiam Novus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, from an awful author who can't update to save her life.

Just over two weeks had passed since Father had informed me of the guest arriving. I was informed by the servant bringing me my breakfast that the guest had arrived early in the morning with his fiancee and I was to join Father in meeting with them later in the day. So my classes were canceled for the day. It wasn’t until they were leaving that they seemed to remember who the guest was. Exalt Chrom of Ylisse and his fiancée. 

The newly crowned leader of our violent neighbors. Father was likely to try and end this war once and for all. Though I wasn’t sure if I believed that they could be civil. I trusted what father said about those dogs in the past, and this new whelp as their leader couldn’t be different. 

I was loathed to stay in my room for the entirety of the day preparing for the meeting, and I knew Aversa would chew my ear off if I didn’t take care of Branwyn. I slowly made my way out of the castle and to the royal aerial stable. During the weeks of living here, I had learned of a private path from the top of the skull to which eye the stable was kept in.

The stable was tightly sealed from the harsh desert winds and had cool wind magic swirling around so the beasts didn’t overheat. I was about to walk up to Branwyn’s stall when I saw a slim woman with long brown hair standing there. She was petting my mare’s nose and mane, murmuring to her. 

She didn’t look like any of the stable hands I had seen before. Maybe she was new if she was where were the older hands telling her to keep her hands off the princess’s steed? I approached her and cleared my throat. The woman startled and turned towards me, falling in the process. I raised an eyebrow at her as she righted herself looking embarrassed. Branwyn turned her head towards me and nickered. I stepped closer to her and let her press her muzzle against my hand. 

“Is she yours?” 

I turned my head to look at the woman, she had an Ylissian accent, since when did we hire Ylissians? She had come back next to me to stroke my pegasus's neck. I nodded slowly, “She is. Her name’s Branwyn. Who are you? A new stablehand?”

“Oh no, am I not supposed to be here? King Validar said I was allowed to be.”

Did she speak with Father? Why would she… Oh.

“Are you by any chance Exalt Chrom’s fiancée?”

Her brown eyes seemed to light up when his name was mentioned, and a grin stretched across her lips. 

“Yes, I am. My name is Sumia. Who are you?”

She had a bubbly personality that I’d only seen only in new or foolish soldiers, the conflict “always knocked it out of them. It would do it to her too.  
“Princess Robin.”

Her smile grew wider, “King Validar said we’d meet you today at the feast. But it’s nice to meet you sooner. And to learn that you have your own pegasus, I have one too, his name is Belfire. We should talk about them.”

I backed away from her and unlatched the door to Branwyn’s stall and she immediately pushed herself against me nickering louder she wrapped her head around me. She was acting as if I hadn’t seen her in weeks, not just yesterday. I patted her neck and gave her a scratch on her withers before pushing her back and grabbing a hold of her halter.

“Perhaps. Now if you’d excuse me, I must get my mare ready. I’m taking her out for a flight.”

I didn’t wait to hear what she had to say.  
____

It was less than an hour till the dinner with Father and the Ylissian guests, and I was standing in my room only in my slip deciding what to wear. I hadn’t seen the woman, I didn’t bother to remember her name when I returned and I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of having to make conversation with her later. It didn’t help that I also wasn’t entirely into choosing a dress and meeting the Exalt for the first time. A knock on my door drew my attention from the gowns laid out on my bed. I picked one up and held it to my front to shield my body.

“Who is it?”

The sweet voice of Clarita answered me, “It’s me milady.”

I relaxed at those words, “Come in.”

She slipped into my room and closed the wooden door behind her softly. She held a package to her chest, she saw my gaze on it and smiled softly. She laid it on my bed and undid the twine keeping it bundled. She pulled back the brown cloth to reveal a gorgeous black and red dress.

“You should wear this tonight,” She paused and her eyes looked sad, “I think you’d look lovely in it.”

She held the dress up to me and I took it from her and held it up to get a better look at it. It was all black save the breast and front of the skirt which was a deep crimson. Shiny black lace crossed over the stomach to tie in the back. The sleeves were long and bellowed out around the wrists to fall in dark and shiny waves. On them I could see in gold embroidery, the eyes of Grima staring back at me. I could feel the matching one on my hand start to itch at the sight.

I quickly pushed the desire aside and changed into the dress with Clarita’s help. She tightened the lacing property then looked at my reflection in my mirror. I could see her blue eyes water slightly, as she ran a hand through my long hair. Her smile was sad.

“You look just like her. I always thought that, but in her dress even more so.”

I knew she was speaking of my mother. Other older servants say that I looked like her too, and I had assumed that myself gave how little I looked like Father. But Clarita was hired after Mother left, she shouldn’t know that. I met her reflection’s gaze as she clipped a heavy matching necklace into place.

“You knew my mother?”

Clarita sighed and started to fashion my hair into a braided bun. “I did, she and I grew up together. This dress was the finest thing she owned. Amalthea wasn’t noble by birth like you, she was just a simple wash woman, we both were. But she had a scary talent for dark magic. She could win any hexing challenge thrown at her. Your father saw that when he passed through our village one day, he spoke to her parents that and. And the next day she was packing her bags to go marry him. I never heard from her until five years later, when I have visited by noble guards. They wanted to be a nanny for a little girl only a few months old. Amalthea’s daughter.”

Clarita finished my hair and turned away, to wipe the tears from her face, “I miss her very dearly. But I swore to her spirit, if she is indeed passed, that I’d take care of you.”

I gave Clarita a smile, “You’ve been a wonderful nanny to me, like a true mother.” I didn’t snap my true feelings about my mother, not after seeing how sad speaking of her made Clarita. Though it was odd hearing mother in a more positive light, compared to how Father always spoke of her. It was odder hearing her name, Father only rarely referred to her as ‘his wife’, mostly as ‘your mother’ but never by her name. 

Her smile brightened a bit and she placed the small black tiara on my head, the red jewel in the center standing out and pinned it in place. “Thank you, my dear. Now it’s time for your dinner.”

She led me down the maze of hallways to the dining room. I took a deep breath and entered, as Clarita bowed to me as did the other servants I passed. I walked slowly to my seat by Father. I smoothed my dress as I sat down and folded my hands in my lap. I didn’t attempt to make conversation with Father.

The guard by the door hit the base of his spear on the ground twice in quick succession, drawing my attention. 

“Now announcing Exult Chrom of Ylisse and his companion and fiancée Sumia.”

I saw Sumia first, she was dressed in a pinkish white gown that hid her figure. Her hair was in two long braids with silver ribbon woven in. She had her arm entwined with a man who I assumed to be Chrom. I let my gaze travel over to him and I felt ice chill my blood.

He was the man in my dream. The one with the burning sword, the one that I hadn’t had in so long but was etched into my memory. Images from the dream came back, the sound of battle, the smell of blood. And the pain, the pain in my stomach. I clutched at it half expecting to feel sticky blood but only gripped at the lacing that was starting to feel too tight. I could hear my heart beat as I stood up, knocking over my chair. I could hear Father shout at me to sit back down, but I only wanted to back away. I could feel his gaze on me, and I stumbled back, tripping over the fallen chair and landed hard on my back. The air was knocked out of me, and white-hot pain ripped through my head as my skull made contact with the stone floor. 

I was still dazed when I was grabbed my arm and yanked to my feet. I was met with father’s angry face, I wanted to get away him from almost as much as Chrom. He pulled me to the table and close enough to growl in my ear.

“You will not ruin this night, girl. Now sit down and behave yourself.”

He released my arm and I touched it gently, I was sure I’d see a bruise on it later. A servant had righted my chair and I sat back down and took a deep breath to try and calm myself. I couldn’t focus on dinner or the conversation. I had to ask them to repeat what they were saying numerous times and I couldn’t make eye contact. Father got annoyed with me enough to finally send me away, then apologizing on my behalf. He didn’t hide his scowl when I forced a curtsy to the Ylissean guests before rushing out of the room. 

I didn’t know where I was going I just wanted to put space between me and the dining hall. I ran through the halls, tugging at my hair to get it to fall back down, my hair felt too tight up in its bun. The next thing to go was the necklace, I fumbled with the clasp until it fell to the ground, it also felt too tight. Everything felt too tight.

I pushed through a set of carved doors and was greeted with cold wind on my face. I was outside, it felt easier to breathe out here. I didn’t pay attention to where I was when I crashed into someone. I knew it was a someone as they were warm in comparison to the frigid night air. I looked up and saw the pale face and silver hair of a man. He was only a bit taller than me and had a boyish face, complete with a wide grin. He was dressed in Plegian war mage robes. Oddly his eyes were closed when he looked down to see me, could he see like that? 

He giggled.

“Nya ha ha. Not watching where you’re going?” 

“Well neither are you with your eyes squinted like that.”

He laughed hard, and I glared at him, not too pleased with him so far. Though he perhaps can be of some use. I turned my back to him and moved my long hair so it was over one of my shoulders.

“Quit laughing and help me loosen my laces, it’s hard to breathe. That’s an order from your princess.”

His laughter died down to only a snicker but I could feel slim fingers undoing my laces. I sucked in a deep breath as I felt him pull away. The air was icy but welcome. Finally calming down, I took in where I was. I was in the castle garden; I’d only been it once before but the smell of flowers and the sight of the rose bushes taller than me were unmistakable. Like the stables, magic is what allowed this to thrive here.

I turned back to the mage.

“What is your name?”

He didn’t bow to which I raised an eyebrow at, only gave me a wider grin than before. I could see that a flock of crows had nestled around him, one perched on his shoulder.

“Caw-ll me, Henry.”


End file.
